


Red White and Blue

by doctorhelena



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies)
Genre: "The Iron Ceiling" AU, F/M, Steggy - Freeform, Thompson vs Steggy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 11:59:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7221490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorhelena/pseuds/doctorhelena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU set during “The Iron Ceiling” in which Thompson discovers that Captain America is not quite as dead as most people think, and Carter and Rogers do a terrible job of pretending they don’t have the hots for each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red White and Blue

**Author's Note:**

> This story is an AU that takes place during the Agent Carter episode “The Iron Ceiling”. Some lines of dialogue and situations are taken directly from the episode. Obviously, I didn’t write those.

Jack Thompson unclipped his parachute and took a moment to appreciate being back on solid ground. Shrugging his arms out of the straps, he watched as the others worked together to hide the chutes in the underbrush. So far, so good. If Marge really had the 107th meeting them, he liked their chances of coming back with some real intelligence that would nail that Stark bastard.

Too bad Marge came as part of the package.

He scowled as she glanced in his direction. He had to admit she was easy on the eyes, and to be honest he often tugged at her pigtails on purpose, just to enjoy her reaction. But that fun was balanced out by how goddamn annoying she could be, and her irritating insistence that she belonged as a field agent in the SSR.

Why did she even want to force her way into a job like this? She had to know she was a liability. Just in the past week she’d taken a sick day because she was a girl, and then had been in the doghouse for not even having the sense to stay quiet about the goddamn car report in front of Stark’s butler. And now, just because she had some kind of pull with Captain America’s old unit, he had to babysit her all the way into Russia and back.

He sighed, watching her lay a branch over the hidden parachutes. She wasn’t her usual impeccably put-together self - her hair was pulled back into a messy pony tail, her bulletproof vest and combat gear went a long way towards hiding her impressive curves, and her signature red lipstick was looking a little the worse for wear after their long flight.

But there was something else different too. Ever since they’d boarded the plane she’d seemed… comfortable, somehow, more at ease than he’d ever seen her. For the life of him, he couldn’t understand why, and it was bothering him more than it should have.

“We’re eight klicks east of the RV” he said, abruptly, shaking himself out of it. “I’ll take lead. Carter, you’re in back. Stay tight.” He pushed the irritation out of his head and concentrated on his surroundings, alert for any sounds or indications of movement.

These woods were very different from the tropical jungles he’d fought in during the war, and the cold spring air was almost surreal after the heat and humidity of the Pacific arena. The sounds and smells were unfamiliar, though they brought back vague memories of childhood Boy Scout hikes. At first every sound had him raising his rifle, but as the hike continued he began to relax into his surroundings. They were making good time and Marge was, surprisingly, keeping up without complaint.

He was feeling much more comfortable by the time they approached the rendezvous point. Over the entire eight kilometres they’d encountered nothing more threatening than a very angry squirrel, and he was moving with cautious confidence until he heard the distinctive sound of a rifle cocking.

His own rifle was up instantly. “Don’t move.”

He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but it definitely hadn’t been a cheerful American voice announcing “Emu!”

He glanced back at Li to see if maybe he’d heard wrong. “What?” he whispered, hoping for a little help, but Li looked blankly back at him.

A British voice rang out from the other side of the clearing. “Ostrich, man. Ostrich.”

“Shut up! Emu.”

“Carter, Dugan forgot the password again.” complained the British voice, as a large man with a mustache and a bowler hat stepped out of the bushes from the direction of the first voice and grinned at them.

Carter was grinning back. “Password is Eagle, you apes.”

 “Oh hi, Peggy!” chirped the bowler-hatted man. He glanced around at the rest of the group. “Fellas,” he said.

Li was speaking in his ear, quietly but insistently. “Thompson, that’s Dum Dum Dugan.” And it was, Thompson realized. Marge had actually delivered the 107th. Huh.

Carter was smiling as the rest of the 107th joined Dugan in the clearing. “Jack Thompson, Mike Li, Rick Ramirez, this is Junior Juniper, Pinky Pinkerton, Happy Sam Sawyer. You seem to know Dum Dum Dugan. The 107th, our tactical team.” She looked happier than Thompson had ever seen her. She was almost glowing, actually, which was a little weird.

Ramirez was star-struck. “You guys are the Howling Commandos.” He turned to Dugan. “Dugan, you fought side-by-side with Captain America, didn’t you?”

Dugan nodded. “Yeah, still do, in fact.” He grinned and glanced at Carter. ”Still not as long as she did, though, and I think he likes her better.”

Carter made a face at Dugan and then looked eagerly past him. Thompson followed her gaze just as a very recognizable figure stepped into the clearing. He wasn’t wearing the fancy outfit, just standard issue field gear like the rest of them, but he did have the shield strapped to his back.

 “Did someone mention my name?” asked Captain America, grinning.

Carter’s face lit up like the sun, and she didn’t try very hard to hide it. She stepped briskly forward until she was standing toe to toe with him, hands on her hips. “Captain Rogers,” she said, in a tone that somehow managed to be both stern and indulgent. “You’re late. Again.”

 “I wanted to make a dramatic entrance,” he said, still grinning. “My public has expectations, after all.” Carter scoffed, but she was unsuccessfully fighting a smile. The two of them stood, not actually touching but staring each other down in a way that was so intimate that Thompson actually looked away and cleared his throat.

What the hell? He glanced sideways at Li and Ramirez, both of whom looked exactly as gobsmacked as he felt.

Apparently Captain America was not quite as dead as reports had claimed. And the only ones in the clearing this was news to were the three of them. Carter had obviously known. And now he knew why she’d fought so hard to tag along on the mission. She really was Captain America’s girl. Huh. Apparently ol’ Marge could keep a few secrets after all. Although she might have thought to warn them before they actually met the man.

Thompson blinked again, and then set his shoulders. This was his mission, and it was time to take charge of the situation. He stepped forward and held out his hand. “Agent Jack Thompson. I’m running point for the SSR. We head due east ‘til we hit the border.”

“Captain Steve Rogers. Nice to meet you,” said Captain America, politely turning away from Carter and shaking Thompson’s hand with a firm, warm grip. “That’s not the best plan, though,” he added, glancing back at Carter as if for confirmation. She nodded, shooting a familiar look of exasperation in Thompson’s direction.

Dugan nodded too. “We’ll hit a wall of reds before we reach the border. Let’s head up into Lithuania, cross over into Russia at Ashmyany.”

Thompson bristled. This was his mission, Captain America or no Captain America. “You planning on walking halfway across Lithuania?” he asked, sarcastically.

Dugan shrugged. “Well, you can if you want.” He walked straight forward, leading the group through a gap at the edge of the clearing – and how had Thompson missed those trucks? “But me,” said Dugan, “I’m taking these. Peggy, guys, let’s go.”

Thompson sighed and followed.

\---

Somehow, and Thompson was pretty sure it wasn’t a coincidence, Carter and Rogers ended up alone in the back of one of the trucks as they rumbled off towards the Lithuanian border. Nobody had come right out and said anything, but Thompson had felt himself firmly steered into the other truck by the Howling Commandos, which he resented because this was still his mission. And giving Carter a little alone time with her boyfriend was not part of his mission objective.  

He really didn’t want to know what the two of them might be doing right now in the other truck. Hell, if the way they’d been staring at each other was any indication, he didn’t have to guess. Why did he even care? How did she always manage to irritate him so much?

He looked across at Dugan, who was riding with him and Ramirez in the back of the second truck. “So, did Carter tag along on a lot of missions during the war?”

Dugan frowned. “What do you mean, tag along?”

Thompson shrugged. “Captain America gets special privileges? The army lets him bring along a pretty girl to warm his tent at night?” He raised an eyebrow.

Dugan looked at him as if he was insane. “What the hell, Thompson? Are you implying that Peggy is Cap’s … what, mistress? Have you met the woman?”

“Of course I have,” said Thompson, evenly. “She’s sarcastic as hell and terrible at making coffee, but you have to admit she’s easy on the eyes. And I didn’t miss that she and Rogers are alone in the back of the other truck, right now.”

Dugan slowly reached forward, wrapped a hand around the collar of Thompson’s shirt, and brought their faces close together. “Peggy can fight her own battles, but you’re lucky she isn’t here to hear you talking like that,” he said, quietly. “You’d be eating through a straw for at least a month,” he added, looking inordinately cheerful at the prospect.

There was a long uncomfortable silence, during which Thompson tried to picture how on earth Carter could possibly manage to break his jaw, unless maybe she got her boyfriend to do it.

“Well, what _did_ she do during the war?” asked Ramirez, finally. “She was Captain America’s liaison, wasn’t she?”

Dugan shook his head. “Did you never ask her? She was far more than a liaison. Peggy’s one hell of a fighter, and I don’t mean just for a girl. Hell, she led a lot of our missions, especially while Cap was missing after he crashed the plane. Most of what she did is probably above your clearance level, but believe me, if it wasn’t for her we might all be saying ‘Hail Hydra’ right about now.”

“Well, she can certainly keep a secret,” said Ramirez. “I don’t mind saying that I was pretty shocked when Captain Rogers walked into that clearing.”

Dugan snorted. “Of course she can keep a secret. She’s a spy, and a damned good one.” He paused. “That’s probably above your clearance level too. Guess I’m not much of a spy myself.”

Thompson blinked, completely unable to reconcile the Peggy Carter he was so sure he had a handle on with the Peggy Carter Dugan was describing.

“Hell, if it wasn’t for her smuggling Dr. Erskine out of Germany in the first place, Captain America wouldn’t even exist,” Dugan added, thoughtfully. “And yeah, she and Cap have always had a thing. But Peggy Carter is not anybody’s tent warmer.”

“If she’s such a good spy, what the hell was she thinking with Stark’s butler?” asked Thompson, recounting  how Carter had walked into the interrogation room and helpfully handed Chief Dooley the stolen car report, right in front of their suspect.

Dugan shrugged. “If she did that, she had a good reason for it. And what are you doing going after Stark anyway? He can be an idiot, but he’s not a traitor.”

The uncomfortable silence descended once again. This was going to be one long ride through Lithuania.

\-----

They stopped for the night in a clearing in the Russian woods, close enough to the Leviathan facility to get there in time for the rendezvous the next morning, but far enough away that their campfire wouldn’t be spotted. Aside from the awkward silence, it had been a fairly uneventful ride, although they’d been thrown around in the back of the truck a little when the ground had been particularly rough.

Thompson was glad to get some fresh air and a chance to empty his bladder, and also to get away from Dugan. He stepped away from the truck briskly, just in time to nearly run into Carter and her boyfriend climbing out of the back of the other vehicle looking irritatingly happy.

Carter’s hair was far neater than it had been when she got into the truck, and she’d recently reapplied her lipstick. Rogers’ hair looked newly combed, and his jacket was no longer rumpled. They both looked a little pink.

“Have a good ride?” Thompson asked pointedly, raising his eyebrows at Carter.

 “Yes, thank you, it was rather exciting at points, and perfectly satisfactory in the end,” she replied, poker faced. Rogers had a bit more trouble hiding his smile.

\------

Thompson sat away from the rest of the group as they relaxed around the fire, just close enough to the heat so that he didn’t freeze his ass off while he ate his canned beans. As he chewed, he watched Carter, feeling somehow even more irritated with her than before. She was sitting next to Rogers, but even Thompson couldn’t accuse them of any impropriety. They weren’t touching, and each of them was chatting with other people. She looked relaxed and happy, bantering with the Commandos like they were her long lost brothers.

As if she could hear him thinking about her, she looked over at him and smiled. She was clearly trying to draw him into the circle when she asked about his Navy Cross. She couldn’t possibly know what had really happened. But because there was no real way to refuse he stumbled through an explanation and then gratefully took the drink Pinkerton offered him. The worst part was, he did feel more like part of the group after that.

Dammit, Carter.

As everyone prepared to call it a night, Carter and Rogers offered to take first watch, and nobody even blinked. How on earth were those two going to keep watch when all they seemed to do was stare at each other? But when Thompson expressed his skepticism that they would actually be watching out for intruders, all of the Commandos stared at him as if he’d grown a second head.

“What exactly are you suggesting?” asked Dugan, slowly.

Thompson shook his head. Actually, he had to admit that he didn’t truly believe that Captain America would abandon guard duty just to make time with his girl. “Nothing,” he said, reluctantly. “I’ll take second watch, with Ramirez.”

He bedded down among the others in the back of one of the trucks and tried to sleep.

Despite his overactive brain, he must have fallen asleep eventually, because he woke to Peggy Carter’s face bent over his, her hand gently touching his shoulder. For a moment he didn’t know where he was, or why she was so close to him in the dark, but he found that he didn’t mind at all.

Half-asleep, he almost leaned up to capture her lips with his, but then he heard the low rumble of Rogers’ voice waking up Ramirez, and everything came back to him. “I’m awake, Carter,” he said, sharply, and she retreated slightly, still in a kneeling position beside him.

“Nothing to report,” she said. “It’s 0100. Dugan and Li have next watch at 0300.”

He nodded and picked his way out of the truck after Ramirez, Carter lying down in the space he’d just vacated. As he climbed out of the hatch, he noticed Pinkerton shuffling sideways into Ramirez’ vacated spot so that there was room for Rogers to lie down next to Carter.

He wanted to kick something, and he wasn’t even sure why.

“It’s just – what the hell?” he complained to Ramirez as they sat by the fire, rifles balanced on their knees, eyes trained on the darkness surrounding them. “Who the hell brings their girl along on a mission?”

Ramirez shrugged. “I have a hell of a lot of respect for the Howling Commandos, and they seem to think she can handle herself. And they’re not acting all lovey-dovey. I don’t even think I’ve even seen them actually touch each other.”

“But they keep looking at each other like they’re about to rip each other’s clothes off. We all know what they were doing in the truck on the way here. And”, he added, “they’re sleeping next to each other right now.”

“You look at her a lot too. And I was just sleeping next to both Pinkerton and Li, and I hope you’re not insinuating that we were up to anything.”

Thompson grumbled. “Well, I still don’t like it.”

“You have a crush on her,” said Ramirez.

Thompson stared into the fire. “Well, it wouldn’t matter if I did. There’s no way I’m competing with Captain Fucking America.”

\------

The next morning was all efficiency, with everyone focused on the mission ahead of them. They chowed down their breakfast rations mostly in silence, then packed up the camp, threw dirt on the fire, and loaded all of their supplies into one of the trucks.

Leaving Juniper behind at the camp to guard the supply truck, the rest of them piled into the other vehicle, Pinkerton driving and Sawyer riding shotgun. The rest of them sat pressed together in the back, and Thompson tried not to notice that Roger’s hand was casually resting on Carter’s knee.

The drive wasn’t far. They unloaded from the truck, and Thompson took a look through the binoculars, carefully scanning the grey walls of the Russian facility. He turned back to the others. “Looks like we beat the bad guys here.”

“So we could have slept for another hour?” asked Dugan, as Thompson handed the binoculars back to Pinkerton and retrieved his rifle.

Carter turned to Dugan. “Then we wouldn’t have the advantage of surprise, would we, Timothy?” She smacked him lightly on the shoulder, and Rogers grinned at both of them.

Thompson ignored them. “So, we infiltrate in four teams of two.” He pointed. “You, you, you, us. No weapons discharge unless it’s absolutely necessary. Meet on the ground floor in 30.” He nodded at everybody. “Clear?”

The Commandos, including Rogers, looked skeptical. “Peggy?” asked Sawyer, clearly deferring to her judgement.

She shrugged. “Agent Thompson’s lead.”

“You got a better idea?” asked Thompson. Despite his misgivings about Carter, the Commandos obviously trusted her judgement, and he had a lot of respect for the Commandos. “Let’s hear it.”

“Four teams of two is faster, two teams of four is safer,” she said, immediately. “Discretion seems to be the order of the day – we don’t know what we’re walking into.” Behind her, Rogers nodded.

He considered. She had a point. “Okay,” he said. “You four.” He gestured to Carter, Rogers, Dugan, and Li. “Happy Sam, Pinkerton, Ramirez, you’re with me.” He looked at Carter. “Good?” She inclined her head. “Aces,” he nodded, and led the way towards the facility.

 Once inside, he wondered if he should have split up Carter and Rogers, but since he didn’t particularly want to work with either one of them or Dugan, he hadn’t really had much choice. And Li was there to keep an eye on them.

His team started on the top floor, and found nothing but eerie, empty rooms. There was something off here, though. The prickle on the back of his neck that had started the instant they stepped inside was getting stronger the longer they were there, and he nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a weapon discharge from the floor below. “Come on!” he shouted, and led his team down the stairs at a run.

They could hear noises partway down the hall, and they burst into what looked like a classroom, weapons drawn. Rogers was down, clutching his shoulder, but there didn’t seem to be an immediate threat. “What happened?” Thompson asked, lowering his rifle.

Carter answered. “There’s a good chance Leviathan has been alerted to our presence.”

That didn’t really answer the question, but Thompson nodded anyway, glancing at Rogers, who was sitting up now. His sleeve was bloody, but he had some kind of super healing ability, didn’t he? Anyway, Carter didn’t seem that worried. “We’ve come too far to turn back now,” he said.

Carter nodded. “We need to move. Quickly.” She moved towards Rogers, and now Thompson could see anxiety briefly slip past her guarded expression as she carefully pulled his hand aside to examine the wounded shoulder.

“I’m okay, Peggy,” Rogers said quietly, and she nodded, looking relieved as she pulled a length of bandage from the first aid supplies in her bag.

“You’re going to heal over the bullet, though,” she said, her voice pitched low as she wrapped his shoulder with quick, efficient motions. “Digging it out later is going to be rather unpleasant, I’m afraid.”

Rogers nodded as she finished. “I’ll still take super healing over the alternative,” he said, smiling at her and briefly touching her cheek. She took a moment longer than Thompson felt was really necessary, brushing an invisible lock of hair off his forehead before stepping back.

“We’re going to need an exit at the back”, said Dugan.

Peggy nodded, tucking the rest of the bandage roll back into her bag. “We can’t leave until we know who’s setting Howard up.” She turned to the rest of the team and raised her voice. “Dugan, Pinky, Ramirez, find a back way out of here. The rest come with me.”

Thompson followed with the rest of them, wondering exactly when he had lost command of this mission.

\--------

Thompson’s uneasiness increased as they spoke to the two prisoners, whose story seemed to confirm that Stark was indeed being set up. Had Carter been right all along? Between that and the fact that, according to Li, Rogers’ gunshot wound had been inflicted by a little girl and would have been to the head if not for his super soldier reflexes, he had the unpleasant feeling that things were falling quickly out of his control.

On the other hand, Carter seemed to be in her element, issuing orders with an authority that nobody even thought to question. How did she do that? Even he was obeying her without thinking as she led the group confidently through the facility, rescued prisoners in tow.

They made it to the ground floor before all hell broke loose. Suddenly attackers were everywhere, and the team was diving for cover, pulling out their rifles and returning fire. “Dugan!” Carter called into her radio. “We’re in the boiler room, we need an exit.” Thompson took cover with the rest of them. The air in the room seemed particularly thick, like a layer of cotton cushioning him from everything around him.

“Gentlemen”, he heard Carter say to the prisoners, “If you know the way out of this facility, now’s the time to share it.”

“Yeah,” Li was yelling, “Use your big brain to –”

“Cap!” yelled Sawyer, and Thompson and Carter both turned to see Rogers bring his shield up and dive in front of Li, deflecting a bullet from what Thompson imagined had to be the same creepy little girl from earlier.

“Above you!” called Peggy.

Rogers nodded. “Thanks, Peg. Got it.” He tossed his shield in the little girl’s direction, although Thompson couldn’t help but notice he missed, bouncing the shield off the wall beside her and back into his outstretched hand. The girl ducked back out of sight.

Unnerved, Thompson got another few good shots in before the crazier of the two prisoners interrupted the fight by taking Sawyer hostage. The air seemed even hotter and thicker as he listened to the incomprehensible Russian shouts, and he felt panic well up unbidden within him. He couldn’t make himself move. He only half listened to Carter and the other prisoner, Ivchenko, try to diffuse the situation. Breathing was about all he could do, and it was taking almost all of his concentration.

He watched, immobile, as Ivchenko shot his fellow prisoner and the firefight resumed. He could hear Carter calling his name, but all he could do was breathe, his heart pounding, his throat thick.

Carter spoke into her radio, one eye still on Thompson. “Dugan, I’m about to get very cross with you.” Dugan’s answer was a sudden blast in the back wall, resulting in a hole through which Ramirez, Pinkerton, and Dugan himself poured through, right into the thick of things.

“Wahoo!” yelled Dugan, and Rogers grinned at him.

Carter wasn’t so amused. “Stop ‘wahoo’ing and help.”

“What did I just miss? We were only gone five minutes,” Thompson heard somebody say, and then Carter was yelling.

“Everybody out!” Her voice carried strongly through the gunfire, and Rogers moved to cover those who were diving out the hole in the wall. “Thompson!” she called. “I said everybody!”

Thompson still couldn’t move. “Thompson!” she yelled again. He watched as Rogers laid in a burst of covering fire and Carter dove across the room, crouching down to grab the front of his shirt. “Snap out of it, mate!” she commanded. “And get your ass into gear.”

It was really hard to disobey Carter when she barked orders like this. “I’m up,” he muttered. “I’m up.” and somehow, he was, unfrozen and able to move again. At a little shove from Carter, he ran across the room and dove through the hole in the wall. Back in the room, he could hear Dugan arguing with Carter, and then Dugan was overtaking him as they both ran for the truck.

“Man, you lost it back there,” he said cheerfully to Thompson, helping him into the truck before climbing in after him. Moments later, Carter and her boyfriend came tearing out of the facility, diving into the already-moving truck and pressing themselves flat as the vehicle picked up speed, bullets still flying in both directions.

“Not bad for a girl,” said Ivchenko dryly, and Thompson wasn’t sure whether he was being ironic. It was hard to tell with Russians, but Thompson was pretty sure he knew about the killer little girl and the entire boarding school set-up which meant that she probably wasn’t the only one.

“I hate you all,” said Carter, panting, clearly not really meaning it.

Thompson stared straight ahead and breathed deeply. What had happened back there? He’d never frozen that badly before. And how had Carter become so unquestioningly in charge of things? He had to admit, she was a lot better at this than he’d thought she’d be.

And okay, she could fight. He had to give her that. Rogers didn’t seem to have a problem with it, either. As a matter of fact, it looked like he _really_ didn’t have a problem with it. The two of them were still lying on the truck bed catching their breaths, their faces inches apart. Apparently danger really floated their boats, because the way they were looking at each other, he was a little worried they were going to start going at it right here in the truck. He noticed that Rogers’ shield was covering his midsection, probably wise under the circumstances.

\-------

They stopped to regroup back at the second truck, Juniper looking relieved to see that they’d not only come back with everyone they’d left with, but had picked up an extra person besides. Thompson rubbed his forehead to dispel a looming headache as he waited his turn to climb out of the vehicle. This mission had not gone at all how he’d pictured it.

As Pinkerton got out the first aid kit and got to work on those who needed immediate patching up, Carter announced to the group at large that she was going to answer a call of nature. She disappeared into the woods to the west of the campsite, and nobody blinked when Rogers wandered after her a moment later.

“Believe me,” said Sawyer, following Thompson’s gaze, “It’s better to let them get it out of their systems.”

Thompson scowled. “Can’t they keep their hands off each other for five bloody seconds? Doesn’t he need first aid?”

Ramirez looked at him. “That’s what you’re focusing on, after the morning we just had?”

Thompson wasn’t sure why it was still bothering him so much. It was just – Carter was supposed to be some incompetent dame who thought she could be an SSR agent. She wasn’t supposed to be a super spy who ordered around the Howling Commandos and regularly got it on with Captain America on the side.

Maybe he did have a crush on her.

He was still scowling when Rogers and Carter returned to camp together, looking slightly flushed and much more relaxed. None of the Commandos even blinked, except Pinkerton, who called Rogers over to the first aid area to take a look at his shoulder.

Carter and Pinkerton had to work together to dig the bullet out of Rogers’ shoulder. Thompson had to admit that Carter wasn’t squeamish. As she’d predicted, it was necessary to re-open the wound before fishing around for the bullet, and neither she nor Rogers flinched, although Rogers did look a little green around the gills for a moment or two once it was all over.

As Pinkerton packed up his makeshift first aid station and the other Commandos prepared for departure, Carter strolled over to Thompson. “Are you all right, Jack?” she asked, apparently checking up on him now that she wasn’t completely focused on her boyfriend in one way or the other.

He scowled at her. “Fine.”

This time, with one more passenger, there were three in the back of each truck, and for once something went his way. Dugan climbed in after Rogers and Carter, and Thompson didn’t have to ride with any of the three of them. He slept the whole way to the airfield.

\-----------

Rogers stayed out of sight at the airfield, still being officially MIA. Thompson wondered how that worked, how long he’d been back for, why he was here in Europe with the Commandos, and why Carter wasn’t.

Dugan shook Thompson’s hand as he headed for the plane. “Good luck,” he said, and Thompson could almost believe he meant it. He nodded back, thanked him, and walked toward the runway, stopping partway when he noticed his bootlace had come untied.

He bent over to fix it, just out of sight of Dugan as Ramirez stopped to shake his hand. They exchanged a few words, and Ramirez stepped past Thompson towards the plane, nodding as he passed.

Carter had been in the truck with Rogers saying a private goodbye, but now Thompson heard her approaching Dugan. “You sure you want to get on that plane?” he asked her. “The Commandos could always use another good fighter. We just need to come up with a nickname for you.”

“Tempting,” she said, “But I think it’s time I put my days on the front lines behind me. Someone needs to mind the wheel back in the States. And I suppose someone needs to convince the SSR of Howard’s innocence, wanker or not.” She sighed. “Besides, you know we have plans. If I come back into the field, we’ll both be there forever. One of us has to lead the way.”

There was a short pause, accompanied by the rustling of fabric. “I’ll miss you,” said Carter, slightly muffled.

“Miss you too, Peggy,” said Dugan, gruffly. He paused. “Wait a second! Miss you. Miss… Union Jack!” He raised his voice a little and Thompson could clearly hear his smirk. “What do you think, fellas?”

“Won’t work,” came Sawyer’s voice. “She’s married, remember?”

Thompson, whose bootlace-tying had already slowed considerably, stopped moving entirely. Wait, what?

“Oh, right,” said Dugan. “Mrs. Union Jack then.”

“Wouldn’t she be Mrs. Stars and Stripes?” asked Pinkerton. “You know, being married to Captain America and all?”

 “Never speak again,” ordered Carter, sternly, although she sounded like she was hiding a smile.

Thompson finished tying his bootlace and headed for the plane, vaguely overhearing Carter make a completely unauthorized decision to offer the surviving prisoner a job at the SSR.

\------------

Thompson was staring out the plane window, somewhere over the Atlantic, when Carter approached him. “You all right?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said, still staring out the window. “You saved a lot of necks back there.” He paused. “You saved mine,” he admitted.

“Not bad for a codebreaker,” she said, with a tiny smile.

“Pretty bad for the Navy Cross winner,” he admitted.

She looked him steadily in the eye. “Everybody freezes sometimes. You recovered. That’s the most important thing.”

There was another long silence.

“They were carrying a white flag,” he admitted. She tilted her head, questioning, and he spilled out the whole story, how the soldiers he’d killed had been coming to surrender, how he hadn’t noticed until it was too late, how he’d buried the flag before anybody saw. Carter just watched him, deep compassion in her eyes. “I’ve been trying to tell that story since I came home from the war,” he said.

She finally spoke. “You just did.”

They sat in silence for a while, and Thompson felt better. Not a lot, but a little. If someone had told him three days ago that he’d finally confide his story to Peggy Carter of all people, he would have had them committed to the looney bin. But, he had to admit, he had a new respect for Carter. She really did know what she was doing, and she wasn’t doing it for glory, but because she thought it was the right thing to do.

“By the way,” said Carter, “I am certain that you already realize this, but the fact that Steve Rogers is alive and well is highly classified, need-to-know information.” She watched him steadily. “I’ve already spoken with Li and Ramirez.”

He nodded. “Does Dooley know?”

She shook her head. “Our reports must have no mention whatsoever of Captain Rogers’ involvement.” She paused, then smiled very faintly. “I’m sorry I didn’t prepare you ahead of time. I could have told you once we were underway, but, well, to be honest, I just wanted to see the looks on your faces.”

Thompson snorted. “You weren’t looking at our faces when he came into that clearing.”

She flushed slightly, and opened her mouth, but then closed it again without saying anything.

“Ivchenko saw him too,” said Thompson, thinking out loud.

Carter nodded. “I’ve also asked him to not to mention it.”

Thompson shook his head. “For some reason, I don’t trust that guy.”

Carter shrugged. “Well, if he’s the only one who thinks he saw Captain America, his credibility won’t be very high.”

“Good point,” conceded Thompson. He paused a moment, thinking. “Does Stark know?”

Carter nodded. “He’s the one who found the wreckage of the Valkyrie.” She paused, looking like she wanted to say more, but seemed to think better of it. They lapsed into silence again.

It was Thompson who broke the silence this time. “You’re married,” he said, daring her to deny it.

She raised an eyebrow. “Not that it’s any of your business, but yes.”

“To Captain America,” he persisted.

“To Steve Rogers,” she corrected. Then she grinned. “I certainly hope you weren’t under the impression that I was married to somebody else. Because I’d have a lot of explaining to do.”

He snorted again. “That would be some serious grounds for divorce.”

She smiled a little like the cat that ate the canary for a moment before she schooled her features back into neutrality and cleared her throat. “But just to make things clear, my marriage to Captain Rogers is classified information as well.”

 “Well, if I can’t tell anyone he’s alive, it’s hard to tell them you’re married to him.”

“Fair enough,” she conceded.

There was another pause. “You should tell Sousa you’re off the market,” he said, not sure why he was bothering. He didn’t even like Sousa. But – it just seemed fair to warn the guy. “He has it pretty bad for you.”

She sighed. “I haven’t been encouraging him. He’s a good man. He’ll get over it.” She frowned, then sighed again. “Maybe I should say something.”

“I’ll tell him you were getting really cozy with one of the Howling Commandos.”

She grinned. “That’s not exactly a lie.”

They sat in a silence that was much more comfortable than he would have thought possible. He wouldn’t say that he and Carter were friends, exactly, but they certainly understood each other far better than they had a few days ago. And they each had blackmail material on the other, which always made things interesting.

She stood up and stretched a little. “I’m going to go check in with the pilot,” she said. “Try to get some sleep.”

He watched her walk away, then closed his eyes and leaned his head back. He had a feeling things were going to heat up once they were back in New York.

THE END

 


End file.
